
Class _„_ rSjiS'3 
Book_ .^4- 
CoipghtN" 



COPVRIGHT DEPOSIT. 




Boston 
De Wo Ife . Fi s ke & Co. 



LIB5'*wv •.♦ CONGRESS 

Two Annies J^ereived 

SEP 15 1904 

' CoD/jtsrht Entry . 
COPY B ' 



^3 






(opyni^Kt" 




IBoj+bn |q©4. 




IFirst ©ay, 



And when the hours of rest 
Come, like a calm upon the mid-sea brine, 
Hushing its billowy breast — 
The quiet of that moment, too, is thine; 
It breathes of Him who keeps 
The vast and helpless city while it sleeps. 

The JHfymn cf the (Bity. 




ecoad j:?ay 



O LIVE, that when thy summons 
comes to join 
The innumerable caravan, 
that moves 
To that mysterious realm, where each 
shall take 
His chamber in the silent hall of death. 
Thou g-o not, like a quarry slave at night. 
Scourged to his dungeon, but sustained and soothed 
By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave. 
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch 
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams. 

Vhanatopsis. 



Thou hast my better years 
Thou hast my earlier friends— the good— the kind. 

Yielded to thee with tears 
The venerable form— the exalted mind. 

Tc the J^ait. 



Xhird j^aij 




HERE'S a dance of leaves in that 
aspen bower, 
There's a titter of winds in that 
beechen tree, 
There's a smile on the fruit, and a 
smile on the flower, 
And a laug'h from the brook that runs to the sea. 

The Sladness of dTature. 



"Every maiden knows 

That she who chides her lover, forgives him 
ere he goes." 

Patima and Raduan. 



Stainless worth. 
Such as the eternal age of virtue saw 
Ripens, meanwhile, till time shall call it forth 
Prom the low modest shade, to light and bless the 
earth. 

The Jlges. 







Stranger if 

thou hast 
learned a 
truth which 
needs 
No school of 
long experience, 
that the world 
Is full of guilt and 
niisery, and hast seen 

Enough of all its 
sorrows, crimes 

and cares, 
To tire thee of it, 

enter this wild wood 
And view the haunts of 
Nature. 

Sntrance to a ll^ocd. 




Fifth ■ ©ay. 



UT I wish that fate had left me free 
To wander these quiet haunts 

with thee, 
Till the eating cares of earth should 

depart 
And the peace of the scene pass into 

my heart. 

Sreen River 



That delicate forest flower, 
With scented breath, and look so like a smile, 
Seems, as it issues from the shapeless mould, 
An emanation of the indwelling* Life, 
A visible token of the upholding Love, 
That are the soul of this wide universe. 

Forest Jfiijmn. 

Thou fliest and bear'st away our woes, 
And as thy shadowy train depart. 

The memory of sorrow grows 

A lighter burden on the heart. 

^he l/ap&e of %ime. 




9 



aij, 



Virtue 
cannot 
dwell with. 

slaves, 
nor reig-n 
O'er those 
who cower to 
take a 
tyrant's yoke. 

In such a bright, late quiet, 

would that I 

Might wear out life like thee, 'mid bowers 
and brooks. 

And dearer yet, the sunshine of kind looks, 

And music of kind voices ever nigh ; 

And when my last sand twinkled in the glass. 

Pass silently from men, as thou^< ' " '^ 



doth pass. 



Sonnet — October. 




IDevealh ^ay. 

I would make Reason my 
guide, but she 

would sometimes sit 
Patiently by the wayside, 

while I traced 
The mazes of the pleasant 
wilderness around 
me. 

oJupiter and I9enus. 



Thou bring'st the hope 

of those calm skies. 
And that soft 
time of sunny 
showers 
When the wide ^ 

bloom, on earth that lies. 

Seems of a brighter 
world than ours. Marc 





ZigKtK 9ay 



O HIM who in the love of natui'e 
holds 
Communion with her visible forms, 
she speaks 
A various language; for his gayer hours 
She has a voice of gladness, and a smile 

And eloquence of beauty, and she glides 
Into his darker musings, with a mild 

And healing sympath^^ that steals away 
Their sharpness ei'e he is aware. 

jrhanatopsis. 

Thus error's monstrous shapes from earth are driven, 
They fade— they fly— but truth survives their flight; 

E sigh not over vanished years. 

But watch the years that hasten by. 

li^he Lapse of Time. 




%nih 9ay. 

Woo her when 
with 
rosy 
hlush, 




Summer eve 
is sinking; 
When, on rills 
that 
softly gush, 

Stars are softly 
winking; 
.Wh.en, through 
^5,^ljg5.^.' boughs that 

j^*^:^ knit the 

bower, 
Moonlight gleams 

are stealing; 
Woo her, till the gentle hour 
Wake a gentler feeling. 




XeritK ©ay. 



RANDEUR, strength, and grace 
Are liere to speak of thee. This 

mighty oak— 
By whose immovable stem I stand 
and seem 
Almost annihilated— not a prince, 
In all that proud old world beyond the deep, 
E'er wore his crown as loftily as he 
Wears tlie green coronal of leaves with which 
Thy hand has graced liim. 

Pcrcsi Hymn. 



In meadows red with blossoms, 

All summer long, the bee 
Murmers and loads bis yellow thighs, 

For thee, my love, and me. 

^he Hunter s Serenade. 



Thy gates shall yet give way, 
Thy bolts shall fall, inexorable Past. 



'PheJPast. 



•'*\..i*'"''t?'S*'' 



xllevealh ©ay, 




The oak 
Shall send his roots 
abroad, and 
pierce thy mould. 
Yet not to thine 
eternal 
resting-place 
Shalt thou retire alone— 
nor could'st 

thou wish 
Couch more mag-nilicent. 
Thou Shalt lie down 
With patriarchs of the infant world — with kings, 
The powerful of the earth — 

the wise, the good 
Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past, 

All in one mighty sepulchre. 

T^hanatopsis. 



Twelfth ©ay. 




HITHER, midst falling dew, 
While glow the heavens with 
the last steps of day. 
Far, through their rosy depths, 

dost thou pursue 
Thy solitarj^ way ? 



Vainly the fowler's eye 
Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong. 
As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, 

Thy figure floats along. 

There is a Power whose care 
Teaches thy way along that pathless coast. 
The desert and illimitahle air 

Lone wandering, but not lost. 



He. who, from zone to zone 
Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight, 
In the long way that I must tread alone 
Will lead my steps aright. 

^c af Waterfcivl. 




XKirteealh ©ay. 

Loveliest of lovely 
thing's 
are they, 
On 

earth, 
that soonest 
pass away. 
The rose that lives 

its little hour, 
Is prized beyond 

the sculptured 
flower. 
Even love, long- tried and 
cherished long, 
Becomes more tender and more 
strong, 
At thought of that insatiate grave 
From which its yearnings 
cannot save. 

oBanks of the Hudson. 



IFoiirleeath ©ay. 



ND thou dost wait and watch 
to meet 
My spirit sent to join the blessed, 
And, wondering what detains 
my feet 
Fi'om the brig-lit land of rest, 
Dost seem in every sound to hear 
The rustliilg- of my footsteps near." 

The indian Sirl's Lament. 




The hills 
Rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun,— the vales 

Stretching in pensive quietness between ; 
The venerable woods— rivers that move 

In majesty, and the complaining brooks 
That make the meadow green, and, poured 

round all, 

Old ocean's grey and melancholy waste,— 
Are but the solemn decorations all 

Of the great tomb of man. 

Thanatopsis. 




"FifteeatK ©ay. 



E, from your station in the middle 
skies, 
Proclaimed the essential Goodness, 
strong" and wise. 

To the oApenninea. 



And leave the vain low strife 
That makes men mad— the tug for wealth and 

power, 
The passions and the cares that wither life, 

And waste its little hour. 

aAutumn Woods. 

Thou art in the soft winds 
That run along the summit of these trees 

In music;— thou art in the cooler breath 
That from the inmost darkness of the place, 
Comes scarcely felt ;— the barky trunks, 
the ground, 
The fresh, moist ground are all instinct with thee. 

Forest Hymn. 



Sipcleealh ©ay. 



All that breathe 
Will share thy destiny. 
The gay will 

laugh 
When thou art gone, 
the solemn brood 
of care 
Plod on, and each 
one as before 

will chase 
His favorite phantom; 
yet all these 

shall leave 
Their mirth 

and their 
employments, 

and shall come, 
And make their bed with 

thee. Thanaicpsis 





ir)evealeealh X^ay. 



KNOW, I know I should not see 

The season's glorious show, 
Nor would its brightness shine for me, 
Nor its wild music flow ; 
But, if, around my place of sleep, 
The friends I love shall come to weep, 

They might not haste to go. 
Soft airs, and song, and light and bloom. 

Should keep them lingering by my tomb. 

olune. 

Innocent child and snow-white flower! 
Well are you paired in your opening hour. 

Thus should the pure and the lovely meet. 
Stainless with stainless, and sweet with sweet. 

" fnnccent (Ehild and Snciv-white Flower." 

Look on this beautiful world, and read the truth 

In her fair page ; see, every season brings 
New change, to her, of everlasting youth. 



jLigKleealK 
9aH. 




They have 



not 
perished 
— no ! 
gjs^gr- Kind 
'v^ii^ words, 

remembered 
15^ > voices 

once so 
rS"?! sweet, 

Smiles, 
radiant long 
ago, 
And features, 
the great soul's apparent 
seat; 
All shall come back, each tie 

Of pure affection shall be knit again; 
Alone shall Evil die. 

And Sorrow dwell a prisoner in 
^ thy reign. 

To thej^ast. 




JXiueleealK ©ay. 



ROM his sweet lute flow forth. 
Imniortal harmonies, of power 
to still 
All passions horn of earth, 
And draw the ardent will, 
Its destiny of goodness to fulfill. 

The Life of the JSlessed. 



Go, rock the little woodhird in its nest. 
Curl the still waters, bright with stars and rouse 
The wide old wood from his majestic rest, 

Summoning from the innumerahle houghs 
The strange, deep harmonies that haunt his hreast 
Pleasant shall be thy way where meekly bows 
The shutting flower and darkling waters pass. 
And 'twixt the o'ershadowing branches 

and the grass. 

'Wo the Svening JU9ind. 

Yet almost can her grief forget, 

To think that thou dost love her yet. 

The fndian Sirl's Lament. 




Xwealielh 2:^aij. 




,-^\ \h^ 



w 




^ Then 
-- haste 

thee, Time— 
'tis kindness all 
- That speeds 

thy winged 
feet so fast; 

Thy pleasures stay 
not till they pall, 
And all thy pains 
are quickly past. 

7^ he Lapse cf Time. 

What heroes from the woodland 
sprung", 

When through the fresh awakened land, 
The thrilling cry of freedom rung, 

And to the work of warfare strung 
The yeoman's iron hand! 

Seventy- six. 




Xweali]=firsl «Bay, 



'RE, in the northern gale, 

The summer tresses of the trees 

are gone, 
The woods of Autumn, all around 

our vale 
Have put their glory on. 

oAuiumn W^ood&> 



These dim vaults, 
These winding aisles, of human pomp or pride 

Report not. No fantastic carvings show, 
The hoast of our vain race to change the form 

Of thy fair works. But thou art here— 

thou flllest 
The solitude 

Forest Hymn. 



I hunt, till day's last glimmer dies 

O'er woody vale and grassy height; 
And kind the voice and glad the eyes. 
That welcome my return at night. 

%he Hunter of the JPrairies. 



Xwerily=secGaA 




'Tis sweet in the 
green 

Spring, 
To gaze upon the 
wakening fields 
around ; 
Birds in the thicket 
sing, 
Winds whisper, waters 
prattle from 

the ground ; 
A thousand odors rise, 
Breathed up from blossoms of a thousand dies. 

From the Spanish. 

Go forth, into the gathering shade; go forth, 

God's blessing breathed upon the 
fainting earth ! 

Tc the Svening Wind. 




Iwealij -third i^ay. 



^j'^^' thy abysses wide 

Beauty and excellence unknown— to thee 

Earth's wonder and her pride 
Are gathered, as the waters to the sea. 

To the JPa^t. 

Ah, uhou art like our wayv/ard race; 

When not a shade of pain or ill 
Dims the bright smile of Nature's face, 

Thou lov'st to sigh and murmur still. 

The LBest Wind. 

The groves were God's first temples. Ere man 

learned 

To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave. 
And spread the roof above them,— ere he framed 

The lofty vault, to gather, and roll back 
The sound of anthems; in the darkling wood 

Amidst the cool and silence he knelt down 
And offered to the Mightiest, solemn thanks 

And supplication. 

Forest jHfymn. 



Xv/erity=fourlK 23'ay. 




Yielding thy blessed fruits forevermore ! 



^he Life cf the Jolessed. 



Twealy=fifth ©ay. 




OO the fair one, when around 
Early birds are sing-ing ; 
When, o'er all the fragrant 
groLind. 
Early herbs are springing: 
When the brookside, bank and grove. 

All with blossoms laden, 
Shine with beauty, breathe of love.— 
Woo the timid maiden. 

honcf. 



Where are the ^flowers, the fair young flowers, 

that lately sprung and stood 
In brighter light and softer airs, a beauteous 

sisterhood ? 
Alas! they are all in their graves, the gentle 

race of flowers 
Are lying in their lowiy beds with the fair and 

good of ours. 

The Q)eath of the Flowers, 








Tlie 
-w ^^— .^-»-« , ^N.^.. .wind-flower 

Iweaty^Sipcth ^"^^^ a , ''vkA and the 

violet, 
they perished 

long" ago, 
The brier-rose 
and the orchis 
died amid the 

summer glow ; 
It on the hill 
the golden rod, 
he aster in the wood; 
And the yellow 
sun-flower by the brook 

in autumn beauty stood, 
Till fell the frost from the clear, cold heaven, 
as falls the plague on men. 

And the brightness of their smile 
was gone, from upland, 

glade and glen. 

The'Q)eath of the f lowers. 



Iweatu^sevealK 

9( 




Thou, who alone 
art fair, 
nd whom 

alone I love, 
art far 
away. 
Unless 

thy smile 
be there, 
makes 

me sad to 
see the 
earth so 
gay. 
^^ I care not 
if the train 
Of leaves, 

and flowers, 
and 
zephyrs 

g-o again. 

From the SpanUh. 




Xwenly^eigKtK ©ay 



KNOW where the young- May violet 

grows 
111 its lone and lowly nook. 

<?An indian Stc>y. 



Words cannot tell how bright and gay 
The scenes of life before me lay. 

The glorious hopes, that now to speak 

Would bring the blood into my cheek, 

Passed o'er me ; and I wrote, on high, 

A name I deemed should never die. 

^he Rioulet. 

The sight of that young crescent brings 
Thoughts of all fair and youthful things— 

The hopes of early years ; 
And childhood's purity and grace, 
And joys that like a rainbow chase 
The passing shower of tears. 

The dZew dllo. 



^i%% T«ntu=aialk 








©ay. 

The boundless visible 

smile of Him, 
To the veil of 
whose brow your 
lamps 

are dim." 

Song of the Starts . 

For prattling poets 
say, 
That sweetest is the lovers 
walk, 
And tenderest is their murmured talk 
Beneath its gentle ray. 

The dTew moon. 

Eternal Love doth keep 
In his complacent arms, the earth, 
the air, the deep. 

The Jlge%. 




xKirlielK ©ay. 



H! you raiglit deem the spot, 
Tlie spacious cavern of some 

virgin mine, 
Deep in the womb of earth— 

wliere tlie gems grow, 
And diamonds put forth radiant rods 
and bud 
With amethyst and topaz — and the place 
Lit up, most royally with the pure beam 
That dwells in them. ^i Winter Piece. 



Is this a time to be cloudy and sad, 

When our mother Nature laughs around ; 

When even the deep blue heavens look glad. 

And gladness breathes from the blossoming 

ground. The Gladness of dTature. 



The forest depths, by foot unpressed. 
Are not more sinless than thy breast; 
The holy peace that fills the air 
Of those calm solitudes is there. 

Fairest of the Rural d^laids. 




still came 

and lingered 
on my 

sight 
Of flowers and 
streams 
the bloom and light, 
The glory of 
the stars and sun;— 
And these 
and poetry 
are one. 




Thirty =firsl ©ay. 



IGHT but a little part, 
A wandering- breath of that high 
melody, 
Descend into my heart. 
And change it till it be 
Transformed and swallowed up, oh Love! in thee. 

^he Life of the J^lessed., 

I would that thus, when I shall see 
The hour of death draw near to me, 
Hope, blossoming within my heart. 
May loak to heaven as I depart. 

^0 the Fringed Sentian. 

Thou didst kneel down, to Him who came 

from heaven. 
Evil and ignorant, and thou shalt rise 
Holy, and pure, and wise. 

dTTary d^agdalen. 

Earth 
Uplifts a general cry for guilt and wrong. 
And Heaven is listening. Sarth 



SEP 15 1904 




UBRARY OF CONGRESS 




